Happiness is a Warm Gun
by xXDark.Lord.MeloniousXx
Summary: Angsty, sweaty fluff fic for Mello and Matt. :D More details inside. Reviews appreciated as always. :3 M for language and unresolved sexual tension.


**Okay, an excuse for some lovey-dovey fluff. I miss writing DN fanfiction, I think I may go back to it once I finish my Star Trek and Teacher's Pet fanfics. :D **

**For Mello and Matt, a lot of sweat, a lot of unresolved sexual tension, angst and guns. :D ENJOI**

* * *

"I'm in love with you,"

* * *

The Orphanage was overheated by the blistering summer, all the children playing outside; all but two. The blonde ruffled his hair, resolving to pin it back after practically tearing off his baggy black t-shirt. He tossed it on his bed, noting the absence of his best friend with some loneliness when he saw the boy's twin bed neatly tucked in and unoccupied. He left the bedroom, searching for the boy, his naked feet pattering against the hardwood floor, his bare, thin torso dripping with sweat and his silent but hot breath the only sound in the building. The sound of laughter and playful activity bounced off the outside walls, but with all the lights off in the building and the blonde orphan's steady footfalls the only resonance, he felt very alone. He turned down some empty corners, occasionally glancing at the names on the doors; every room was identical. A wooden door with a golden knob, opens to a small room, each room has two twin beds, different bedding for each room in regard to color or pattern. Most rooms had a window; if a pair was lucky, they got one of the bigger rooms with two windows by one of the four corners of the floor. One twin bed would rest horizontally against the wall with the window and the other would rest horizontally against the adjacent wall, nearer to the door. Two desks, two outlets, two miniature bookcases, two closets sitting beside each other to the right of the second desk and two bedside tables with two lamps. Everything uniform. Everything in place. Obedience and discipline in the home, down to the perfect form of toothpaste on bristles, was believed to instill obedience and discipline in the child. The blonde hated that theory.

It was an incredible difficulty to be an individual when to be special in any way other than intelligence was frowned upon. The wandering, lonely orphan felt a small tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth as he thought of his best friend. His missing friend was his only friend; the Orphanage was filled with intelligent, social children more than socially acceptable, but his friend was the only one that peaked his interest. Why, you ask? He was the only one capable of escaping the seemingly inevitable monotony of daily ritual and boundary. He went to scratch the back of his neck but only ended up wiping a sheet of sweat from his skin. He frowned; it was too hot to even touch oneself. He would never show it physically, but he was growing more and more anxious as he walked around, trying to locate the boy. He gathered all the energy in his overheated body to call out,

"Matt?"

It echoed for a while, but he didn't find the need to call it again as he soon found a silhouette in the closest room to him. He looked in to find Matt, the bottom threads of his maroon hair plastered to his neck and some of his cheek. He was dressed only in a pair of boxers and both his arms were raised in front of him, his shoulders tense and his back muscles glistening with highlights on his few, adolescent muscles.

"What are you doing?"

Matt turned around, his arms lowering slightly, his shoulder-blades slacking as he replied nonchalantly,

"Practicing,"

The blonde stepped in the dark room, his lanky hands curling around his waist,

"Practicing what?"

"Shooting, Mello,"

Mello's brows perked, "Shooting? You mean, like a gun?"

Matt nodded, turning to face Mello, his left hand offering the weapon's identity. Mello glanced to the gun then back to Matt, back and forth for a few seconds until he questioned,

"You know how to shoot that?"

Matt nodded positively again. Mello glanced to the gun, then back to his friend,

"What have you been shooting at?"

"Near's toy airplanes,"

Mello laughed; he truly did love Matt. Always sticking up for him.

Mello looked at him quizzically; something was different about the boy.

"What?"

"…you're not wearing your goggles…"

He saw Matt visibly falter in taking a step back; his face was hidden in the shadows of the unlit room. Mello never would have even noticed had he not been able to spot the sparkle of uncovered eyes in the shade of Matt's forehead and bangs. Slits of light through the half-opened window, fragmented by trees' branches revealed some of his cheeks, his stoic mouth and some of the highlights on his arms and torso, but nothing of his eyes. Nothing but those sparkles.

"Would you teach me how?"

"How to shoot?"

"Yeah, I wanna know how to shoot,"

"…yeah, I could teach you…"

Mello stepped closer, eyeing Matt's curled fingers around the handle and trigger,

"Don't you hate not having your goggles on?"

"My sweat was dripping into my eyes…what were you doing before you came looking for me?"

"Playing solitaire,"

"Like L suggested,"

"Yes, but it's getting harder and now I keep losing. It's pointless, busying, that's all it is, I don't have time to dilly-dally…"

"Did you tell that to L?"

"That he's wasting my time?"

"Yeah,"

"Absolutely not, L would never waste my time,"

There was a short silence before Matt responded seriously,

"You're not angry at L, you're angry at Near. Near is good at solitaire, isn't he? He got to a higher level and you're sick of it because of that,"

"Are you going to teach me to shoot or not?"

"Promise not to turn it on me once I do?"

Mello smirked, "Promise,"

"Come here, then,"

Mello came closer, never breaking his stare with Matt's masked face. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of his eyes. Matt stepped behind Mello, causing the blonde to twist his head around, muttering,

"What are you doing now?"

"Just watch,"

Mello turned his head around again, looking out the window where a white airplane was wafting in the hot air. He very suddenly felt slick skin around him, he jumped slightly, turning to look at the other boy again,

"W-what are you doing, Matt?"

Before an answer was given, Matt's more athletic arms entwined themselves with Mello's, placing the gun in his hands and shaping his own hands and fingers onto Mello's. Mello grinned at the barrel in his possession, aiming out the window, only just then he felt Matt's lips against his ear. Their overheat was spreading to one another, and Mello was wishing he could mandate the blood that was unintentionally spreading to his abdomen and punching through his heart ferociously. Matt's low voice came through the dark and Mello could feel his steamed voice cross over his cheek,

"Do you trust me, Mello?"

"Do I what?"

"Just tell me, honestly, do you trust me?"

Mello flustered, glancing away from where Matt's shadowed figure lurked on him,

"Yeah, idiot, of course I trust you…"

"Of course?"

"I trust you, I trust you, what does this have to do with anything?"

"It has a lot to do with everything,"

"What's it got to do with shooting?"

"How can I let myself control your body without your heart's permission, Mello?"

The blonde blushed, turning towards the unseen character sharing his body heat, their sweat-dusted faces running against each other and lips nearly touching as Mello replied,

"I trust you,"

"You trust me?"

"Yeah, I trust you. I'd let you get up close to me like this,"

Mello could only see through his peripheral vision, the profile of Matt's handsome face. He knew if he tilted his head back onto Matt's shoulder, they were close enough that their lips would press together, so cramped, but Mello had never felt more comfortable.

"Would you let me see your eyes?"

"No one's seen my eyes,"

"I know. I want to see them,"

"How about this, Mello, I'll let you shoot, and if you have a perfect shot on the first try, then you can see my eyes. If you don't, then you get my goggles from the room for me and hand them to me on your knees,"

The blonde felt his lungs grow lighter as Matt pulled away and only his chin, the crease in his chest and his stomach could be seen in the dark behind him. Mello turned back towards the open window, focusing on the moving toy, shutting one eye and biting the side of his bottom lip; he pulled the trigger and shut his eyes. A reverberation of the bullet rang out and Matt snickered airily. Mello opened his eyes slowly and looked out the window, relaxing his shoulders.

"Tch," Matt began, "Guess that means you have to get me my goggles,"

* * *

"Matt,"

…

"Matt,"

…

The blonde glared from the couch, pointing his gun at the ceiling and firing, scaring his techie out of his skin, making him drop his Gameboy. Matt was without a shirt on the carpeted floor, his skinny-jeans hugging a little too low and revealing his Pokémon underwear. Mello would observe his toes curling every time he had especially tense moments in battle on his stupid video game. Mello was lying on the couch, also without a shirt and wearing rolled-up black sweatpants, his hair pinned back. Matt looked at Mello through his goggles, out of breath in fright, as Mello yelled,

"MATT,"

"WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK, MELLO, WHAT?"

"You are not paying me attention. Matt, I nearly said your name three times. If I need to shoot a gun to get your Goddamn attention, I will be sure to fire it closer to your head next time,"

"Goddamn it, Mello, you know, I'm getting pretty sick of you acting like this,"

The boy sighed as he stood and began walking towards his room to get his cigarettes. Mello placed his chocolate bar on the table beside the couch and kept his scowl on Matt's back.

"I know,"

Matt turned to face him, stepping backwards once before stopping,

"You know what?"

Mello's icy azure stare sharpened, "I know that something's been bothering you,"

"You shooting your gun willy-nilly, yeah, that can be a pain in the ass sometimes," He replied sarcastically.

"I mean it, Matt. I know you've been…thinking about not living with me anymore,"

They stared at each other for a long while in a silence even heavier and thicker than the hot summer air invading their apartment.

Mello wanted to shoot the gun even more; he was right. He didn't know for certain if he was right before, but he sure as hell knew now. He fired the gun through the floor, scaring Matt again so much that he backed up a step and gasped. Mello stood up, his arms tense by his sides,

"Why are you thinking of leaving? What did I do?"

"Holy shit, Mello, you've gotta stop firing that thing whenever you want! It's driving me up the fuckin' wall!"

"Fine!" He threw the gun to the floor with a resonating thud, throwing his arms up in surrender, "Fine! See? It's gone! I'll never fire it again, I swear,"

"…Mello," Matt began gently, "What has gotten into you?"

"You! You've gotten into me, Matt! Tell me what's bothering you, I'll stop it! I hate that you're thinking of leaving! I've never lived alone, I never planned on it either. I don't want you to go. You know I wouldn't be able to go through with any plans with you gone,"

Matt stilled, glancing at the gun, then back to Mello,

"It's not you,"

"Fuck you,"

"What!?"

"You know that's bullshit. That's like we're breaking up, that's something you tell someone to make them feel better before you dump them. I'm not taking that shit from you. Tell me what to change, tell me what to do…or what to say, just…" If Matt hadn't known better, he would have thought Mello's eyes were watering, "…just stay, Matt. Tell me, I'll change whatever it is…"

Matt tilted his hip to the side, tempting Mello's eyes to leave the goggles that mirrored him, "…you trust me?"

"…what?"

"You trust me, right?"

Mello looked away momentarily, "Yeah…yeah, of course,"

"Of course?" Matt repeated, unconvinced.

"Yeah, what does this have to do with anything?"

"Well, it has a lot to do with everything!"

Mello growled, having a strange sensation of déjà vu.

"What's it got to do with you leaving?!"

"Cause, damn it, Mello, if you trust me, start acting like it!"

They stared wide-eyed at each other, both exasperated and huffing in the thick heat, the only noise that of white and the fan pitifully trying to cool the large living-room. Mello curved his brows,

"What are you talking about?"

Matt crossed his arms over his bare chest, "You're an asshole, Mello,"

"You've known that for years, Matt,"

"I already packed my stuff. I was gonna break it softly, but that's blown to shit, considering you threatened to shoot me then shot the ceiling and the Goddamn floor when you figured it out,"

Mello stomped towards Matt,

"You remember, years ago, a summer, and you promised me if I could shoot down Near's plane on the first try, that you'd let me see your eyes?"

"…yeah, I remember," He responded oddly.

"Yeah, well, I've thought about that day every day of my fucking life, thinking of all the different angles I could've, or should've fired, thinking about all the wrong posture I had and how I should've kept my eyes open when I fired and thinking of what I could've done to make it different…but I can't go back in time, and it drives me crazy…thinking I'm so able now…to do what I had no idea I could do then…"

"What're you getting at?" He asked in surprise.

Mello stormed away, like a shark, his eyes dark and shimmering with purpose as he sharply picked up the gun and pointed it at his life-long friend. Matt didn't tense at all; he knew Mello too well to ever think Mello would ever, actually hurt him intentionally.

"If I blindfold myself, you spin me and I fire at you, hit you square under your jewels on the first shot, you stay,"

Matt scoffed, but it was caught off early by Mello gesturing at the gun in his hand,

"I'm serious. If I get that perfect shot, you stay,"

"You're kidding,"

"I'm not. I want that perfect shot. I want you to stay. If I get it, you stay,"

"And if you don't?"

"You can leave,"

"…what's the catch? The one besides putting my balls on the line,"

"If you stay, you have punishment for thinking of leaving,"

Matt tensed at that.

He didn't like the sound of that. Mello was his best friend, but he was also a sadistic bastard.

Mello reached over the side of the couch, grabbing his earlier-discarded shirt, ripping off the black, cotton sleeve in a long enough piece that it could wrap around his head. He tied it on and Matt approached him slowly, placing his uncertain hands on Mello's ready shoulders and spinning him a few times before backing away against the far wall again. The blonde picked up his right arm, pointing the gun at Matt, all of his revealed expression completely unreadable as he lifted his left hand and readjusted his arms downward. Matt swallowed inaudibly,

"You never use both arms…you sure you can—"

"Don't doubt me, asshole, you said you trusted me. Shooting a gun is easy. Shooting at you isn't. You matter. It's just a precaution. I don't need it, I just want as much protection for you as possible, so appreciate it,"

Matt just nodded although he knew Mello couldn't see it. He spread his legs and kept his arms tightly at his sides. He closed his eyes, feeling his long lashes brush against his goggles. This was how Mello functioned. It's how he always functioned. Deals here, deals there, anything to keep whatever he had gained along the rocky way. Matt was on the verge of losing his manhood and any promise of passing on his genes, but he was never a fan of children anyway. He never planned to wear a button-down or tie, carry a briefcase or work an eight-hour work day either. In fact, he never planned on leaving Mello. Not until he had realized that Mello would leave him if it were convenient for him. At that realization, he knew he had to leave before his heart was completely shattered and unfixable. He was half-hoping to be shot there, make a fool of Mello and of himself just to have permission to leave Mello and all the sadistic torment he meant on Matt's tortured, swelling heart. He never wanted to be with anyone but Mello, but that feeling wasn't reciprocated, and so it was his only place to leave Mello. It pained him, but he needed to save himself before he fell in too deep.

"Hey, Matt…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you trust me?"

"…yeah. Yeah, Mello. I trust you,"

"…cause, I trust you,"

Matt felt his eyes moistening as they would whenever Mello told him anything remotely kind. He flustered a little; partially due to the heat, partially due to the pressure he was under and partially due to Mello flattering him with pretty words he never used with anyone else and only used in the privacy of their apartment room every blue moon. He watched every muscle slowly curve perfectly on Mello's wonderful figure, his fingers smooth, calm, but determined and his mouth straight, some hairs falling from his pin. Matt waited for it…waited for it…and there it was. Mello was biting the side of his bottom lip, and that meant he was about to fire. He closed his eyes and he heard a shot, freezing and seethed as the bullet flew through his jeans. Mello eagerly tore off the blind and looked at his friend enthusiastically,

"Che," He started, "Guess that means you're staying,"

"…I…" Matt looked between his legs, the hole in the wall, to the gun, then back to Mello, "I…I guess I am,"

"Now, you owe me,"

"…owe you what?"

Mello dropped his arms, running to Matt and pulling the barrel up by Matt's chin. The amount of sweat was disgusting, but between them, they never cared. Mello closed his lips close to Matt's ear and pressed his hips against the other boy's, making his breath hitch.

"I've gotten much better since that day,"

"Apparently,"

"You know what I want,"

"Honestly, Mello, I don't,"

The blonde pressed the gun more unto Matt's flesh threateningly,

"I want to see your eyes, Matt. Take off the goggles,"

Years.

He had waited for years for this very moment.

He had scrimped and saved for years, every second glance, waiting outside the shower, waiting for the insomniac to fall asleep to take them off, to no avail. He had savored that single memory of those sparkles hiding in the dark, praying, wondering and working, aiming and shooting so many targets to better himself, maybe for closure or acceptance to his past failures that dominated the only image of his friend he thought he'd ever have. But now he had Matt cornered. No more guessing, no more daydreaming, no more lingering.

He watched with itching anticipation as Matt rose his arms, his button-callused fingers gripping the sides of them and lifting them with a sweaty pop. His eyes were closed when they were removed and it surprised Mello to find that the skin around them were the same complexion as the rest of his body; not that he was a very tan boy, but he had always assumed they would be ten times the pale the rest of his body was. His lashes were long and matched his hair, making a pretty shadow cast just under them. Gradually he opened his big, round eyes to meet Mello's for the first time.

"…green…"

"Yeah,"

"…your eyes are green,"

"You couldn't just ask what color my eyes were?"

"Fuck you, Matt, I've known you since we were just babies. It's not something you just…ask after twenty-some-odd years of knowing someone,"

"I would've understood,"

"I know you would've, just shut the fuck up,"

"Why?"

"Cause…" He was entranced. Matt's eyes were a swirling miasma of ivy and emerald, beautiful and paralyzing as the thorns of a rose, "…cause I…I'm looking at your eyes right now,"

Mello took his gun away from Matt's neck, keeping one hand on Matt's waist, his right arm falling loosely by his side. He only stared deeply into Matt's eyes as he murmured,

"You'll never have any idea how scary it is to think you might let go. I won't have any of that again, you hear me?"

"…Mello, I—"

"Promise me, Matt, so I can move on to what I really want to say to you,"

"…okay. Okay, fine, I promise. I promise I won't leave,"

"Ever?"

"Ever,"

"Promise?"

"Promise,"

"…I trust you,"

"I know. I trust you too,"

A warm silence engulfed them shortly before Matt asked,

"What did you want to say to me?"

"I can't…I can't find the words,"

"At all?"

He dropped the gun and moved his newly freed hand to Matt's neck, pulling him into a desperate kiss that at first was sweet and sorry, but soon became ruthless and shameless; the Mello that Matt had always known. He threw his lanky arms around Mello's neck, curling up into his hair, their bodies pressing more unto each other and short gasps colliding with the white noise and fan in the room, making wonderful music. When Mello pulled away, it was violent and sudden as he always was, pushing Matt against the wall and backing away gracelessly, wiping at his kiss-swollen lips almost hungrily, if that was any way to describe it. He looked up at Matt who could only huff in an attempt to catch his breath.

"You doubted me,"

"I what?"

"When I was about to shoot. I could feel it. You thought I might shoot you,"

Matt held his heart, "Well, sorry, Mello, when another guy points a gun at my sack, I tend to get a little territorial,"

Mello laughed uncharacteristically before demanding through a smile much too chaste to fit his face, "You will not doubt me again. I mean that. I want you to trust me. I'd never hurt you,"

"So you made that deal knowing completely that you'd get exactly what you wanted,"

"I did,"

"…shit. So why didn't you do it earlier?"

"Cause I wanted you to trust me," He half-smiled, "Really trust me. I wasn't going to use it against you unless you gave me an opening. And thank God you did,"

"Well, don't pull anymore threats like that out of your sleeve. You ruined my jeans,"

"I wouldn't have risked your balls, Matt, you should know by now that that is the one thing I would not put on the gambling table,"

"…what?"

Mello nearly fell back laughing, "What? You haven't deducted it yet?"

"I tend not to think too much on your words or actions, Mello, because thinking too long about you makes me think I'm losing my mind and I occasionally lose attachment with reality,"

"Makes enough sense," Mello replied as he stepped forward.

He ran a silky hand over Matt's collarbone, staring deeply into his eyes,

"There's still that I have to see,"

"…what?"

"There are parts to you I don't know, Matt," He looked almost sad for a moment, "Parts I want to know. I…know, I know I'm an asshole a lot,"

"Understatement of the century,"

"Shut up,"

"Fine,"

"You…you're my best friend, Matt,"

Matt scoffed, "I'm your only friend,"

"Because I don't need anyone else,"

Their gazes met again and Matt fought back the urge to kiss Mello more, he touched Mello's chest, unsure of what he was trying to tell Mello by that gesture.

"Matt, I have something to say, but I know…I can only say it twice. I can only say it twice, do you want me to say it now, or do you want to wait?"

"…tell me it once now, and I'll see if I ever want to hear it again. Why can you only say it twice?"

"I can say it now, in privacy with you to…convince you that staying was the right thing. Make this…close up. And I can tell you when I'm about to die,"

Matt cocked a brow, "…okay,"

"Don't meet your eyes with me. But keep them open. I've…grown a liking to them…"

Matt blushed a little again, "Alright,"

He dropped his eye-contact to where his fingers lingered on Mello's chest. The blonde leaned in more closely, if at all possible, cupping his hands at the base of Matt's neck, his thumbs holding the flesh right before his reddened ears. He kept his eyes on Matt's, without meeting them as his lips met with the boy's ear and he told him in a tender, smooth voice,

"I'm in love with you,"

Matt didn't hesitate to twist his countenance to Mello's, kissing him deeply. When he pulled away he saw tears reluctantly falling down Mello's face, calmly, but tears Matt had never seen before.

"Don't cry, Mello,"

He never thought he'd use those words.

"I can't help it,"

"I'm in love with you too,"

He could practically hear Mello's heart stop.

"…but…but you said I was an asshole! You thought about leaving!"

"Yeah, because I didn't think you returned my feelings. And plus, just because you're an asshole doesn't mean I don't love you. I love you for the asshole you are,"

Mello was perplexed and Matt realized for the first time since that summer day so many years ago, he had the upper hand, and Mello was on his knees for him. He fixed his hands on Mello's waist and kissed him shortly, telling him,

"You don't have to say it twice, Mello. I trust you,"

"…you do?"

"Of course I do. On that note, I'd like to take you into my room with me with the air-conditioning,"

"…why?"

Matt smiled slyly, "I think it's about time you got to know me, Mello,"

* * *

**Told you it was fluffy XD**

**Hope you still enjoyed it! Reviews are always appreciated! **


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